Inhibitions
by wanderingsmith
Summary: S/W - relaxing can open your eyes sometimes...


Summary: S/W - A drink brings Elizabeth clarity

Rating: it's PG13, but pushes the envelope.. so I figured I'd be safe and say NC17  
Beta: Thank you **comanche rider**! :)  
Disclaimer: Ain't got no money and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me; so there!

Walking Elizabeth back to her quarters after the party thrown for Ronon's birthday, John accepted her vague wave as an invitation to come in, watching with an amused grin as his tipsy boss-lady went to her computer, seemingly forgetting his presence in her room.

He'd stayed out of the athosian alcohol, not wanting to risk what he might do without his self-control. Which meant he'd gotten to enjoy watching everyone else get a little silly. If not outright hilarious; Carson was going to be busy tomorrow.

Elizabeth wasn't so bad; solid on her feet, just a little perkier. Even more teasing than usual. She laughed and seemed to relax, and he spent the evening silently following her; pretending he wasn't pretending to be her date. Luckily he spent enough time as her shadow during daily life that most people didn't take note of him; not even the sober ones.

When music started up, he refocused on Elizabeth, stepping away from her laptop with her eyes closed and starting to sway. "When Zelenka put 'My Immortal' on, for some reason I couldn't stop thinking of this song."

He was watching her hips wave forward and back to the music, his mouth open in shock, wondering faintly if someone had snuck alcohol, or worse, into him without his noticing...

When she spun with the change in beat, enough of his blood got back to his head for him to hear the words of the song and identify it as 'Hunter'. And to keep himself from being over-ensnared in her again. Instead he watched her appreciatively; and saw the gamine glee in her closed-eyed grin. He finally couldn't help the laugh.

"You look about 17 years old!"

She laughed along with him, refusing to let him deter her enjoyment, swaying over to him and dragging him into the centre of the room to dance, allowing herself to hold onto the alcohol-induced freedom a little longer.

John just watched her, shuffling his feet so it was a little less obvious. She was so relaxed; having so much fun. He couldn't help wishing he could see her like this more often; that she could feel like this more often. He was smiling at her, probably way too tenderly and being way too obvious, barely restraining himself from kissing her as he took the hand she held out and twirled her. As she came to a stop smiling right at him, he couldn't stop the too-familiar thought; 'God, I love you so much.'

Happy from her dance and the companionship, Elizabeth had drunk just enough to admit to herself what his expression was saying. And to respond without thought, "I love you too."

John's breath caught and he froze, not knowing where to jump. She was drunk, she'd regret saying that. Would she remember? Would she remember seeing through him?

Reacting to the worry in his expression, she lifted her hands to his temples, rising on tip-toes to kiss his brows with a silent caring she usually kept buried.

When she was back on her feet, he smiled sadly, relaxing somewhat and accepting her gesture, realizing he needed to acknowledge her words or he'd regret it.

"Love you. Have for a long time."

"Good," Elizabeth smiled back, raising herself again with a glint in her eye that made John stiffen again. He was familiar with that look, it meant teasing was incoming... What was she up to now?

"What are you doing?" he spoke softly as her lips landed on the corner of his.

"Seeing how seduceable you are," she answered while trailing kisses up his neck.

His eyes fluttered closed, "By you, all too easily," he practically moaned, still keeping his hands to himself, feeling half lost in sensation; from a few kisses on his neck? Shit! He was in so much trouble. "But you're drunk Elizabeth, and you'd kill me in the morning."

He felt her lips move on his skin, "Not that drunk."

One of her hands slipped to his crotch, "Definitely, not that drunk," she purred, feeling herself throb as she squeezed his stiffening flesh, hearing him gasp.

"'Lizabeth, stop this." He took the hand away firmly, shuddering convulsively as she continued with the kissing.

She pulled back, "John," she looked him in the eye, "I'm not drunk. My inhibitions are a little low but I am aware of my actions." She sighed, having drunk enough to allow herself to regret the lonely years, looking away as he let go of her hand and she went to playing with his shirt buttons absently. Then she looked back and John could see sadness and humour mixing in her expression. "Come on, that wasn't news. To either of us."

He raised his brows, "Wasn't it?"

"John?" She looked worried now and it was his turn to sigh, taking the hand sneaking into his open shirtfront and turning it between his as he watched. Thinking of how often he'd stared at those pale limbs covertly as she typed or held a mug; or just waved them about while trying to get a point across. How often he'd wished she would touch him. How often she did touch him. He finally nibbled at the ring finger before grudgingly admitting, "No. Not shocking news."

She gave him a half-exasperated, half still-worried look. "Okay. So why all the arguing?"

He rolled his eyes, frowning repressively at her, "By your own argument; nothing's changed. So why suddenly..." he trailed off with a questioning brow.

"Jump your bones?" He gave her a wounded-puppy look, making her grin, "Because it's easier to admit I was wrong to keep us apart after I'm a little mellow. And easier to admit that just touching you," she grinned, "makes me wet." His hand was too late to stop her saying the word and as it left her lips and hit his ears, she saw his pupils dilate; his nostrils flaring, unconsciously searching for confirmation.

When her hand slipped back out of his and onto his aroused cock, he was done fighting. If she could argue that calmly, she was sober enough. And she was seducing him... that might give him a few safety points when she sobered up, right? And she loved him... Hearing those words was a whole other feeling than simply 'knowing' it. His lips quirked in surrender, letting himself rock into her touch, shaking his head in disbelief as he felt himself shudder, even sober he was going to have to watch the self-control...

Elizabeth stepped back, taking both his hands and leading him to her bed. She wanted to see that cherishing look again. Wanted to see him as relaxed as she was. She wondered idly what he would have done if he'd been the one to have a few drinks.

When her knees hit the edge of the bed, she hesitated, wishing he would give her a sign that this really wasn't against his wishes. Teasing aside, she would never...

She lost the train of her thought as he put a hand at her nape and pulled her lips hungrily to his. Hot and thick, his tongue was everywhere, holding her in place to take what he wanted; letting her take everything in return as she demanded to taste and explore for herself.

She felt the shiver that went through him when she played her tongue along his; oh my, what a lovely idea, she thought, tensing. How long since she'd been with a man who wouldn't be put off? To have the freedom of his body, the freedom to make him shiver and shake with pleasure. To taste the link between possessing and belonging, woman and man. To taste everything that made him a man; her man.

Before he could reduce her to an incoherent, moaning puddle of need, she pushed on his shoulders to separate them, breathing hard and feeling the fire between her legs. She switched places with him and smiled enticingly, "Let me play tonight?"

John wondered what he was in for, grinning and more than willing to find this out the hard way, "When have I not?"

With a last quick kiss, Elizabeth gave him a push, following him down onto the bed to crouch over him, feeling his hands idly stroking her thighs as he watched her eagerly. Oh yes, she was going to enjoy this man. For the rest of whatever time they had.


End file.
